


Watching the Rain

by Persiflage



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Silent Witness (TV)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Inspired By Tumblr, My Muse is a whimsical creature, No Plot/Plotless, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Rain, Soft Butch Jill Raymond, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Crossover Pairing: Doctor Who's Dr Martha Jones is happily married to Silent Witness' DI Jill Raymond (because why not?! *shrug emoji*). Fluff ensues.
Relationships: Jill Raymond/Martha Jones
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	Watching the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanctitatem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctitatem/gifts).



> [This post](https://pers-books.tumblr.com/post/640402599727824896/brightindie-i-wish-i-had-a-window-seat-with) crossed my dash yesterday and I saved it for a fic prompt, never expecting that my whimsical Bitch Muse would throw 700 words of fic featuring a crossover pairing at my head (rather than Berena, which is my current ship!). Silly cow!

Doctor Martha Jones lets herself into the house and pauses on the mat in the hallway to shed her wet coat, hat, and boots, dropping her sodden umbrella into the waiting bucket. There’s no sound from within the house, but she knows her wife is at home because Jill’s boots and coat are in their usual spots, and her umbrella is already in the bucket. She gathers up her shoulder bag and the bag of groceries she’d picked up on the way from the hospital, then makes her way into the kitchen. She drops her shoulder bag onto the seat of a chair, then puts away the milk, yoghurts, and other groceries, before she pops her head around the sitting room door. She can’t help smiling a little when she spots Jill in the window seat, gazing out at the rain. There’s a mug in her hands which Martha can see is steaming, implying that it’s not long since Jill made the mug of tea that she’s holding. Her big macho Detective Inspector is looking far softer than probably any of her colleagues have ever seen her: her waistcoat has been removed and is draped over the back of one of the dining room chairs in the dining room half of the knocked through room, and Jill has unfastened her cufflinks and folded back the sleeves of her mid-blue long sleeve shirt. Martha can’t help staring at her wife’s exposed wrists and forearms, can’t help recalling how strong those arms are nor can she help thinking about Jill’s long, elegant fingers. She licks her lips, then moves into the room and crosses towards Jill. The Detective Inspector continues to gaze, abstractedly Martha now realises, out at the rain, and Martha is almost next to her before she looks around and spots her. Jill’s stern expression melts into a smile of delight at the sight of her wife.

“Hello, love,” Jill says. “Been home long?”

“Only a few minutes,” Martha replies, reaching out to clasp her wife’s shoulder, then leaning in for a lengthy kiss of greeting.

Eventually, they move far enough apart to rest their foreheads together. “You okay?” Martha asks softly.

“Yeah. Just thinking about the case. But I promise I won’t think about work now that you’re home.”

“Really?” Martha asks, unable to quite hide her scepticism.

“Darling,” Jill says, her voice soft and husky, “why would I want to think about work now that you’re here?”

Martha chuckles. “Oh ho! Someone’s feeling frisky, are they?” she asks in a light, teasing tone.

“Do you mind?”

“Do I mind that my wife, the most gorgeous soft butch I’ve ever met, is feeling frisky? Hmm, let me think.” Martha pulls an exaggeratedly thoughtful face and Jill laughs, her gloriously full-bellied honking laugh, which of course sets Martha off, too.

Eventually they calm down again and Martha perches at the other end of the window seat, glancing out at the incessant rain before turning her attention back to her wife. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Feeling frisky?” Jill asks with a frown.

“No, silly goose, work.”

“No, I definitely don’t want to talk about work,” she says firmly.

“Okay.”

“How’s your day been?” Jill asks, holding out her mug.

Martha takes it and swallows down a mouthful of hot tea, then passes the mug back. “Madly busy, as ever.” She clasps Jill’s ankle and squeezes. “I don’t want to talk about work, either,” she says meaningfully.

Jill gives her the little half smile that Martha loves, then says, “In that case, I think I’m going to go upstairs and get out of these clothes.” She swings herself around on the window seat, stands up, sets down the empty mug, grabs her waistcoat and hooks her finger in the neck before slinging it over her shoulder, then holds out her free hand to Martha. “Care to join me?” she asks in a really suggestive tone.

“Definitely,” agrees Martha with a smirk. She gets to her feet and holds out her hand, allowing Jill to tangle their fingers together before she leads the way upstairs to their bedroom. _The day is definitely looking up_ , Martha decides with a satisfied smile.

**Author's Note:**

> There might be more of this in the future, but who knows? Not me! Ask the whimsical Muse living in my brain!
> 
> Originally posted [here](https://pers-books.tumblr.com/post/640473782352576512/apparently-the-bitch-muse-liked-this-post-so-much).


End file.
